Waiting Out Winter (4 page)

“You’re right. I like the first option best. Phones?”

“All still working--landlines and cell.” She looked up and Nick realized the boys were standing in the doorway of the kitchen listening. She lowered her voice to finish her thought, “But how long will telephone and electricity last with no one doing maintenance downtown and none of us working to pay our bills?”

He turned and motioned the boys to come on out. Nick squeezed his children, relieved they hadn’t been part of the horror stories Jamie had told him. As he rolled on the floor with them, he outwardly shared their innocent enthusiasm and reckless abandon. Inside, his mind churned with dark thoughts and apocalyptic possibilities, and took note of their total coverage wardrobe.

Nick thought about the information overload Jamie had dumped on him and came to the conclusion that what had initially been a controlled situation had turned into a contained paranoia. He was glad to be home, but it wasn’t the home he’d left behind. It was darker, physically and mentally. A nightmare he had no control over.

By nightfall, he had heard back from Jerry. Wade had provided no new information in a huff that let Jerry and Nick know, even in his official position, Wade was being left out of the loop and wasn’t happy about it. Nick tried to accept the situation while watching his family dine on vegetarian lasagna--Jamie had refused to get fresh meat and was saving their frozen pre-infection stores for future use, thanking him for his hunting hobby and two freezers worth of venison, bear and fish. After dinner, he began formulating a plan for survival.

Believing they had added strength in numbers, regardless of the town’s failure at the same notion, they moved his sister Sarah’s family into the Kontis’ larger home. Shuffling bedrooms and rearranging Nick’s home office and the kids’ playroom in the basement, they easily made it roomy enough for the addition of Jerry, Sarah and little Emily. Sarah spent most of her time with Emily or talking quietly to Jamie. Nick hated their new relationship and wished he could figure out how to fix it. But he knew he’d pushed her too far the night before her wedding and she’d never forgive him for his words. It wasn’t that Jerry was a bad guy--Nick just thought he was wrong for his sister and had told her as much. Now, with the situation and sudden closeness of Sarah and Jerry, he wished he could take those words--hell, the whole night--back.

They were still settling in when they offered to let Scott join them, but he chose to drive to Indiana to be near his children, “The ex’s opinions be damned.” He claimed it wasn’t the fear of government solutions but a desire to protect his children, and he left as the rumors of the Illinois and Indiana borders being breeched by the flies hit the Hayward rumor mill. Nick and Jerry knew Scott well enough to know there was at least a touch of government paranoia behind his hurried exit, but they let their friend go without voicing it. Mike called from a three-day leave in Turkey to check on them. He wouldn’t be home anytime soon and only knew there was massive troop recall for support and the National Guard had been called to arms. Mike was surprised the Army would send troops from other states to his own. Nick’s imagination wondered if the Army believed it was easier to quarantine, and kill if necessary, your own countrymen as long as they weren’t your own neighbors and family members. He kept that thought to himself as well, concentrating instead on keeping everyone’s spirits up.

Jerry and Nick made several trips covered in industrial strength repellant that permanently burned flesh where their skin was exposed at the edges of their clothing. While they were out, the women busied themselves rearranging the house to keep necessities at hand and put away those things that were no longer needed for every day life. They all tried to make life as normal as possible for the kids.

Normal meant lying for the most part. Playing videos so the kids didn’t ask questions about why the television didn’t work. Removing the radios from sight so Hunter and Tyler wouldn’t request they be turned on. Even snagging playroom equipment and games while out for
real
supplies was done in the name of making things look and feel normal. Nick knew it wouldn’t last, but he didn’t know how much the children comprehended until he stumbled upon them coloring.

“No they don’t.”

“Yes. Mom said.” Tyler, the younger of the two, sniffled as his brother argued with him.

“Well if it worked then we’d be outside and we’re not, so just shut up.”

“Hey, hey. We don’t talk like that, Hunter.” Nick squatted down to talk to the boys, careful not to block the television and it’s fiftieth airing of Toy Story. “What’s going on here?”

“Nothing.” Hunter stabbed at his paper with the dark crayon and added to the marks already scattered about the page.

“Well, if there’s a problem you know you can come to us if you can’t work it out.”

“Won’t do any good.” Hunter traded the dark crayon for a brick red.

“Hunter?” Nick studied the drawing his son was working on for a few moments. It looked like a giant Popsicle dripping blood and concern knit Nick’s brows together. “So, what are you drawing?”

“Stupid flies.”

“Ahhh…” The Popsicle was in fact a crude flyswatter. “So these are the flies?” Nick pointed to the black dots.

“No, these are.” Hunters finger circled the collection of red speckles between the swatter and the black spots. “Those are the dead people.”

Nick swallowed and looked at Tyler. The boy had stopped coloring and pulled his legs up tight to his chest. His eyes welled with tears and Nick felt the lump form in his throat. “Is this what you guys were arguing about?”

“Yes.”

“No.” Hunter crumbled his drawing and threw it at his younger brother.

“Hunter…”

“Will we ever be able to go outside again?” Tyler interrupted, a tear run down his cheek and his fear caused his voice to tremble. “Mommy says we will. She says the flies will die.”

“They will. Or at least they’ll hibernate.”

Nick knew Tyler understood the word from all the hunting shows he’d watched with the boys, but clarified for the confused expression his younger son’s snarled lip projected. “They’ll go to sleep when it gets cold.”

“But it’s already cold and we’re still stuck in here. I don’t want to be in here any more!” Hunter jumped up and ran to the front door. Nick stood and moved to stop him but Sarah intercepted him.

“Honey… what’s going on?” She grabbed Hunter and pulled him to her as she gave her brother a questioning nod.

“I don’t want to die!” Tyler wailed and ran down the hall toward the bedrooms.

“Go… get Tyler. I’ve got Hunter.” Sarah picked up the eight-year-old with a grunt and headed toward the kitchen doorway where Jamie stood.

“Nick,” Jamie’s voice stopped him and he turned around. “I’ll get Tyler. Scott’s on the phone. He’s at Cheryl’s… Sounds upset, you better take it.” They traded duties as she handed him the phone before heading down the hallway.

Nick shut his eyes and exhaled, “Hey Scottie, what’s up?” Silence answered him and he pulled the phone away from his ear to look at it, as if it were a cell phone and he’d know if the connection was lost. He put it back to his hear and listened for a moment. He could barely make out the ragged breathing on the other end.

“Scott?” He nudged with a soothing tone. Scott had never been a quiet person, they’d teased him all through college about never shutting up, and Nick immediately worried if Scott or the kids had been bitten. “Hey, man--”

“Cheryl’s dead.” Scott’s voice was calm but trembling, cracked.

“Dead? When? When did you get there?” Nick retreated to the kitchen and let Jamie and Sarah handle the boys on their own. Jerry sat at the table, eyebrows raised at Nick’s questions. Nick covered the phone and told Jerry, “Cheryl’s dead.” Jerry covered his mouth with his hand and shook his head before spitting tobacco juice into the Dixie cup he held.

Scott continued on the phone, “I just got here… half hour ago maybe, or an hour, I don’t know.” Scott’s steady voice of logic cracked as he spoke. “Randy said she died last night. And Nick… he’s coughing.”

“Oh shit, Scott. I’m sorry.” Jerry’s looked up at Nick’s word choice and Nick waved him off. “Is there any chance it’s just a cold?”

“No. He was bit. He knows it and he knows what it means. He’s actually being quite brave for eight.”

Nick thought of his Hunter and how very different his behavior was from Scott’s boy. “What about Michelle?”

“She’s fine, but she’s in shock. Randy said Cheryl coughed pretty hard at the end. Michelle was sitting with her and got covered in blood. She hasn’t spoken since… she was still speckled in blood when I got here…” The ragged breathing turned to sobs and Nick waited for Scott to regain his composure and finish his thought.

Silence answered him.

“Scott? What do you want to do? What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. I don’t fucking know.” His voice skipped. “I mean… I still loved her. And her kids needed her. But I can’t fix it or change it… and now Randy…”

“Come back here.” Nick was startled by his tone. He had meant it as a suggestion but it had sounded more like a demand. “You know, you could come here. Hole up with us instead of down there by yourself.”

“I don’t know. I can’t do anything… I can’t even think straight. Randy--”

“It’s ok. Just calm down. Maybe it’s not fatal for everyone.” Nick glanced at Jerry, their eyes acknowledged the lie he’d just uttered.

“I can’t… I… I’ll call you later.”

The phone went dead.

“Shit.” Nick set the phone on the table.

“Cheryl
and
Randy?”

“Yeah. Damn.” Nick pulled out the chair next to Jerry and sat. “Maybe we should drive there and get him.”

“What? How?” Jerry stood and paced the small room as Nick’s leg began bouncing with nervous energy. “We can’t. We can’t risk contaminating everyone all the way down and then back and then bring it into this house. We made it safe here. We--”

“I know, I know.” Nick cut him off. “I just didn’t know what else to say or suggest. Fuck, this sucks.”

Nick grabbed the phone and dialed Scott’s cell. He got the voicemail recording and slammed the phone down again.

“We can’t do anything right now. Let’s just go to sleep… It’ll work itself out. Or we’ll figure something out. Either way, right here--right now--we’re useless.”

Nick stared at Jerry incomprehensively. He understood the logic, but the source puzzled him. Nick wondered if the ordeal was starting to take a toll on Jerry. He nodded and went to check the situation with the boys. Sarah met him in the hallway.

“The boys are in bed. I think they’ve both calmed down but you’ll probably want to talk to them in the morning.”

“Thanks Sare…”

“Hey, what are aunties for if not to rescue small children?” She smiled and offered him a hug. He thought it was just to end a bad day, but felt something in it, something he wanted to call forgiveness and hoped this meant she’d moved past his pre-nuptial tantrum. She kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear, confirming his hopes, “It’s ok, bro. You were only doing what you always do--what you think is best for everyone.” She smiled and sidestepped into her makeshift bedroom, quietly shutting the door behind her.

Jerry was still pacing when Nick returned to the living room to douse lights.

Hunter’s outbursts became more frequent after that night, and Tyler became more withdrawn. Sarah involved Tyler with the care of Emily to keep his mind occupied and left Hunter to his father, suggesting he should know how to deal with a miniature version of himself. Scott called back several days later to let them know he’d be staying there and toughing it out. He was afraid the blood spattered on Michelle may have infected her and didn’t want to bring it to them. Nick said they understood, but their door was always open if Scott changed his mind. Nick was still reeling from the situation when he and Jerry headed out for supplies.

“When we’re done today, can we swing by the house? Sarah wants me to grab everything in the kitchen cupboard--paper plates and spices and whatnot.”

Nick nodded while he steered past the debris in the street to leave his neighborhood. “Whatever. Why didn’t you get them all before? She grabbed photo albums, why not food? Christ my sister can be brainless some days.”

“Hey now. She grabbed the food, this is the nonfood stuff--and I think I may have some chew in the garage I’d like to grab, too. So it’s not just her, it’s me. And what the hell is up with you?”

“What’s up? We’re trying to survive and she’s worried about paper plates.”

“No. I know you better than that. This isn’t about Sarah, this is you. What the hell’s gotten into you? You’ve been a fucking bear since... Is this because of Scott?”

“Yes. Well, no. It’s just…
everything.
Are you blind? Look at this place.” He jutted his chin toward the windshield, indicating the road ahead of them. Garbage cans had been knocked over, lawns needed cutting, laundry that had been outside when the panic hit was still hanging or lying on the ground, forgotten. “If the plastic on the windows didn’t move so they could gawk at us, you’d think it was a ghost town.”

“We run into people sometimes…”